Colours of you

My English teacher constantly tells me that I am a peculiar person, so I like to think so. Even though my mom tells me that I am not peculiar, at all. I don't have friends. I don't like to speak. I like to think. I choose to believe that talking to people will waste my time. But there's this boy, and his brown eyes shine all the time. But he will never talk to me, so I will just write about my love for him in my journal. I believe that we all have stories to tell to a person or a friend, unfortunately I have not found that person yet. I always want to talk about how lovely Egan is, and how his sandy silky hair is too long for a boy. But maybe I'm wrong... about everything.